“Puberty Is a Bitch!” 2: An Eyefull

“Your body seems to be producing extra testosterone, and adrenaline. You said the first time it happened was when you first started lifting weights, right?”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with it; with…this?” He motioned toward the large bulge in the crotch of his jeans.

Dr. Bartell removed his glasses, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “When you pushed your body too hard, you triggered a rare comdition called Pubescent Hypertrophy.”

“Annnnnd, what does that mean?”

“Well, to put it simply, your penis and genitals grow at a more accelerated rate during puberty than those of an average teenager.”

“And what causes it?”

“It’s a genetic defect. The subject’s body develops extra glands for testosterone, and adrenaline. Overexertion of the normal production of these hormones triggers their use. I noticed you’ve gained a lot of mass since last I saw you…”

“I’ve been hitting the weights.”

“That’s another side effect. Accelerated muscle development.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Well, if you’d come to see me earlier, we could have fixed the problem with medication. As it is, all you can do now is work out less.”

“For how long…?”

“Until puberty has run its course.”

“When will that be do ya think?”

Dr. bartell looked through his notes, “Uhhh, you’re not going to like this…”

“Just tell me how long.”

“Well…judging from the rate of growth, and hormone levels…until you’re at least 21.”

That had been a week ago. His uncle Harold had tried to console him when he got home and Brad told him about it. “Hey, look on the bright side, Bradly. At least you’ll be a big hit with the guys.” It hadn’t helped.

“Yeah, right. A big hit. At least until they see what a freak I really am. No one’s gonna want anything to do with this.” He grabbed his crotch, hefting it to drive the point home.

Uncle Harold had gotten custody of Brad when his parents died. Only by default. He was Brad’s only living relative, and a homosexual. Rather than deal with putting another orphan through the system, Children and Youth had let Harold take custody after months of “making sure it was an appropriate home”. When Brad came out, it had been Harold who guided him through the choppy waters of being a gay teenager in today’s society. But there was nothing Harold could do to help him now.

Brad peeked out of the shower room. Everyone else was gone. Wrapping a towel haphazardly around his waist, he hurried to his locker. This had become a daily ritual, and he only had about 5 minutes to dress and get to his next class.

He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a familiar voice behind him. “Hey, Brad…”

Brad grabbed the towel tightly as he turned, “Hi, Coach Weis…”

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I was disappointed to see that you didn’t go out for the swim team this year. Mind if I ask why?”

Uhhh, because wearing a speedo in public had suddenly become a really bad idea, Brad thought. “Well, uhhhm, I thought I’d try Track and Field this year, Coach.”

“Well, that’s a good idea. But I hardly see the problem. The schedules are totally compatible.”

Shit! “I don’t know, Coah. The swim team just doesn’t appeal to me as much this year.”

“Well, I wish you’d reconcider. I got a lot of promising talent with the new Freshman Class. But I still need swimmers with some experience.”

“Brad had managed to get his shirt on with one hand, and step into his underwear and jeans. Now he just needed to pull them up without dropping the towel. "I, uhhh…I’ll think about it, Coach…” He struggled with the towel, and pulling his pants up without dropping it.

“Brad, what in the world are you tring to do…?!”

“Coach, I’m gonna be late, I gotta…”

Hopping on one foot, and trying to hold his pants up, Brad lost his grip on all of it. His jeans and underwear fell to the floor along with the towel. Brad stood naked from the waist down in front of Coach Weis. Stunned at his own nudity, he stood red-faced as the older man’s eyes fell on his 8" soft member. The man’s eyes were the size of silver dollars.

“Holy SHIT, boy…!!” His face reddened, and he grabbed the towel from the floor. He turned his head, and offered it, stammering an apology, “I…I’m sorry…here…”

Brad hurriedly pulled up his underwear and pants. He pulled on his shoes without tying them, and grabbed the towel as an afterthought. “I…I gotta go…!”

He grabbed his backpack from the locker, and ran out of the locker room with the coach calling after him as the bell rang, “I’m sorry, Brad…”